The Case at Camp
by PassionatelyHiddlestoned
Summary: Kurt Wallander and Magnus Martinsson have been assigned a case. But this is no ordinary case. This is the case of a masked, machete weilding murderer at an old abandoned camp. Can Kurt and Magnus unravel this sinister mystery before it's too late?
1. Chapter 1

"Magnus, turn that down! I can hear it from here!" said a very agitated Kurt Wallander from the driver's seat of his black S60 Volvo SUV. Magnus Martinsson woke with a start, head slumped down against the seat and IPod blaring R&B from his ear buds. He stretched his legs, and took out his ear buds. "Why, have we arrived?"

Kurt sighed. "Stop sounding like a teenager on a road trip, this is business. And, for god sake, get your bloody boots of the dash!" Magnus frowned as he removed his dirty shoes from the dashboard of the car, and sat up straight.

"Well, since I'm not a teenager, and you are not my dad, I can listen to my music as loud as I wish," he said matter-of-factly, putting his ear buds back in, preparing for another nap.

Kurt shook his head as he gripped the steering wheel, driving down flat suburban road. Magnus was smart, but could be incredibly irritating at times. They had been assigned to a case at a summer camp of a serial killer terrorizing local teens. Magnus had jumped at the chance to take the case with Kurt, and they were assigned.

They had to stay at the actual camp while they were working, one of the aspects of it that discouraged Kurt, but Magnus referred to it as a 'chance to get in touch with nature.' As long as there was a charging socket… he had said.

Kurt couldn't bear to listen to Magnus's loud beat coming from his IPod any longer. The young man was going to go deaf at that volume! As much as Kurt valued his silence during peaceful drives, this was not peaceful, so he turned on the radio. Soft, classical music flooded through from the station Kurt had pre-set. He relaxed a bit, and breathed steadily to the soft hum of the car engine.

Magnus stirred, and said, half asleep, "What is that dreadful sound?" Kurt opened his mouth. How could he hear the classical music over the drone of his own?

Over time, Magnus became restless, shifting from side to side. Eventually, Kurt turned the music down, and took out Magnus's ear buds. "Will you PLEASE try to stay still?! You're giving me a bloody headache!" he said, exasperated. Magnus just yawned in reply. "I'm hungry."

Kurt threw his hands up in defeat.

As they pulled into the nearest fast food joint, Kurt had to admit his stomach felt rather empty as well. They ordered two burgers and a large fries, and proceeded to the checkout. The joint was almost abandoned, other than an old, scruffy looking man sitting at one of the tables.

As they passed him, he said something. "So, yer goin' to the old camp by the lake, huh?" The two stopped and turned. "How did you know that?" asked Magnus. "Not many people come up here these days, not after all the murders… the only reason fer comin' out here would be that place."

Kurt showed interest in this. "Do you know anything about the place that we should know?" The man just laughed. "If you value yer lives, you shouldn't be messing around up there! The legendary man with the machete, Jason Voorhees, lurks about by that lake, and he means trouble!" Kurt just smirked. "That's nothing but a fairy tale. We're here to investigate the murders of 6 real, living, breathing teenagers that went missing three days ago."

The man leaned in closer. "And what do you think caused those murders?" Magnus shivered as a cool breeze blew though the drafty restaurant. How cliché… he thought, pulling his black leather jacket tighter to him.

Kurt nodded to the man as they left, still not believing in that silly urban legend. He was very practical, and didn't believe it possible for a man who had died to come back and massacre people. Actually the thought of it even amused him. But there was nothing amusing about the situation they were investigating.

Magnus sat in the car, wolfing down the fries. Kurt marvelled at this. "Excuse me, do you plan to leave me any?" Magnus gestured down at the box, mouth full, to reveal a lone fry left. Kurt sighed, and took it. Magnus took a bite of his burger. "That legend is kind of creepy," he admitted. "Yes, it's a creepy campfire story. But we're police officers, and we don't use ridiculous stories as evidence to a crime scene."

Magnus nodded slowly, squinting off into the distance. The wind blew through the open window, tossing his blonde curls all over the place. He ran his fingers through them, but they just flopped back over his face. He stared thoughtfully, then shook his head, and plugged into his IPod again, turning up the volume to max.

Kurt continued to drive, Magnus continued to snore, and they eventually arrived at the abandoned camp. Kurt shook Magnus awake. "Magnus? Wake up. We're here." Magnus sat up, rubbing his eyes. "That was quick…" he mumbled, once again stretching out his boots onto the dash. "Yes, well, a 5 hour drive can go by quite quickly for someone who sleeps through it all!"

As they got out with their bags, a woman came out. Magnus immediately readjusted himself in his seat as he saw her, and Kurt swatted his arm. "Don't make a fool of yourself, Martinsson. We're here for the case." Magnus snapped himself out of it, and they got out of the car as she approached.

"Hi there," she said, shaking their hands. "Welcome to Camp Crystal Lake. I'm Shelly Mason, and I was a camp counsellor here back when it was a camp," she said in a country accent. "I was asked to brief you on the details of everything that's happened?" Kurt nodded at the young woman. "Yes, thanks. Please, show us around," he said hastily, eager to get his things settled in one of the cabins.


	2. Chapter 2

Shelly brought them to a row of cabins. They rimmed the forest like stones scattered on a beach, and the trees rose high above them. Kurt squinted at the brightness of the sky despite the clouds covering it.

"The cabins are pretty small, it's where the kids stayed. Nothing really happened here, so I'll take y'all to the counsellor's cabin."

They walked through the muddy grass to an old, creaky looking cabin near the entrance, back window facing the forest. It was certainly bigger than the other cabins. Shelly opened the creaky wooden door, and they immediately smelled cedar. There was a large fireplace, and several rooms in the back. There was even a TV set, but Kurt questioned whether or not it worked.

"If you boys need anything, I'm just a phone call away. I don't stay here, under advisement by the police." Kurt nodded. "Of course. Thank you, Miss Mason." He noticed the look on Magnus's face at the mention of her leaving, and he stepped on his shoe. Magnus looked up, and glared at Kurt.

Shelly smiled. "Bye, then." "Bye." "Bye."

Kurt sighed when the front door closed, and turned to Magnus. "Do you have any idea how unprofessional that was? She could get hurt if she stayed, Magnus, think about something other than your sexual desire for a minute, okay?"

Magnus was deeply hurt by this. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. Kurt looked down. "I'm…I'm sorry. I didn't mean-" But Magnus had already gone to his room, shutting the door behind him. Kurt rubbed his hair, and sat down by the dark fireplace. Huh, he thought, I sure know how to talk to people, don't I?

As much as he felt bad for saying what he did to Magnus, the younger detective did need to learn a little humility.

Kurt was bored quite easily in this old cabin, and there wasn't much to do. He wasn't that into drinking, he'd done enough of that after his marriage ended. He decided to pass the time as he usually did with time off- sleeping.

A couple of hours later, Kurt woke up to the sound of crickets chirping right outside the small glass windows. He groaned as he pulled himself up out of the chair. He went over to see what sorts of things they kept in the fridge, but when he opened it, it had nothing but two completely rotted tomatoes and a few empty beer cans.

Kurt covered his nose, and shut the fridge. Well, it was a good thing he brought their supply of food. He had to remember, this cabin had been abandoned for a few years now.

He took out some carrot juice (packed by his daughter, Linda) and some pasta he had eaten the night before. As he was sitting back down, he suddenly remembered Magnus. His room was awfully quiet… maybe I should check on him, thought Kurt. He was quite used to being alone, so he had forgotten there was someone else living there as well. He needed a little company right now.

"Magnus?" Kurt rapped lightly on the door. "Come out Magnus, I'm sorry for what I said." There was no answer. He didn't really want to open the door, in case he was changing or something, but there wasn't even rustling or anything. "Magn-"

He opened the door, to reveal an empty room. He immediately panicked. "MAGNUS?" he called. What if the culprit behind all this had gotten to him? Kurt frantically grabbed his gun, and went out the door into the night. He could barely see, so he took out his mini flashlight they were required to bring on duty.

"Martinsson, where are you?!" he called out. He listened, but there was no response. He'd have to call the station, tell them to send people, he decided, and ran back into the cabin. He was out of breath as he dialled his phone that he left on the chair, and was about to hit call, when the sound of a toilet flushing came from the hall.

Kurt put his hand on his gun, and slowly walked over to that part of the cabin. He positioned himself in front of the door to the room the sound came from, and drew his gun. The door opened, and out popped Magnus, whistling as he dried his hands on a small towel. He tossed the towel into the bathroom, and looked up.

"Woah! Oh, Kurt. What the hell are you doing with that?" he asked, oblivious to his partner's facial expression. Kurt just stared for a second, and put his gun back into his belt. "Magnus! What were you doing?! Trying to give me a heart attack?!" Magnus frowned. "Uh, nooo… I was relieving myself."

Kurt massaged his forehead. "Oh. My. God. I thought you'd been kidnapped, killed even! And the whole time, you were in the bloody bathroom." Magnus raised his eyebrows, and started to laugh. "You- you thought- HA! I go to the bathroom, and you think that this Jason fellow got me? I thought you were a highly trained professional!"

Kurt whipped around. "Highly trained professional are 'highly trained' to respond seriously to serious situations! How was I supposed to know you were in there?" "What, was I supposed to announce it to you? 'Um, Kurt, just so you know, I'm going to take a PEE now!'"

Kurt just sighed again. "Just… just go back to bed, Magnus, we've both had a long day." Magnus was wiping his eyes from laughing, when his face got dead serious. "K-Kurt…" he said slowly, lifting his jaw up. "What?" "He's behind the cabin, in the forest."

"Oh, for god's sake, Magnus, I made a mistake, the joke's over!" "No," Magnus shook his head, "I can see him watching us _right now_." Kurt contemplated whether or not he was telling the truth, but something in Magnus's face told him he was.

Kurt carefully turned around, and there, in the forest staring right back at them, was a very tall man in a hockey mask. A chill tingled down his spine, and he took out his gun. He whispered to Magnus. "Get your gun, and follow me." Magnus nodded quickly, and dashed to his room and got his gun. He and Kurt made a run for the door, desperate to catch the man.

But when they got out, he was gone. Magnus's hand was shaking as his finger was twitching at the trigger, and he walked into the forest with silent agility. "Don't go far, he might be hiding," said Kurt, and Magnus nodded again. He turned around and around, covering his back and sides, but there was no sign of the man in the mask.

"Kurt, he's gone without a trace," said Magnus. "Did he drop something, maybe a glove?" called back Kurt. "I'm looking…"

Just then, Magnus came across something that killed his nerves even more. Right in front of him was a large tree stump, with a long, glinting machete sticking out of it.

"K-Kurt?" "What?" "You'd better come see this." Kurt crunched dead, fallen branches underneath his feet as he walked to where Magnus was standing. He definitely wasn't as light on his feet as the younger cop was.

Magnus ran his hand through his blonde curls, as he does when he's troubled, and as they bounced back around his face, Kurt came up beside them.

"Oh…. Alright, don't touch it. It probably doesn't have any fingerprints on it, if he was smart, he'd wear gloves… but just in case, we'll let it alone, and call in some analytical people tomorrow." "Yeah."

It was even colder at night, and they could see their breath. "Let's go back in now, it's dangerous to be out here at this time of night with him running about," said Kurt, and they walked back to the cabin. "How do we know he won't just come in and slay us in our sleep?" asked Magnus, swallowing a lump in his throat.

"We don't," replied Kurt grimly, "But I've got a hunch that the man we're dealing with isn't that type of killer." Magnus took a deep breath, and they locked the front door.

As Kurt got into his bed, he wished the place had a heater. He would give anything to be back in his Ystad home, warm and cozy and relatively safe from psycopaths. But this was what he did, and he must endure the perks of being an in-demand detective. He shut out the tiny lamp, and went to bed.

Over in Magnus's room, he was shaken up pretty well. He tried to calm himself down by splashing his face with cold water, (since the place didn't have any hot) but it hardly helped. "Come on, Magnus," he told himself, "Relax. You've dealt with this sort of thing before. It'll all unravel at the end."

He looked at himself in the mirror, and his shoulders sagged as he realized he didn't have much faith in his own words. He pushed the image of the machete out of his mind, and got into bed. As his slender arm reached out to turn off the dim lamp, he thought of something.

He threw the wool blanket off himself, and stood up. He slept in nothing but boxers, and was cold. He hadn't thought to pack his winter pajamas for the occasion. He went over, and drew the blinds to the window. There, he thought, much better.

He got back into bed, and plunged the room into darkness.


End file.
